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by ruric



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: Written for paian's 2010 prompt: Stargate SG-1, Jack O'Neill/any, sex on the dock by Jack's cabin
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2010





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**Author's Note:**

> Written for paian's 2010 prompt: Stargate SG-1, Jack O'Neill/any, sex on the dock by Jack's cabin

The wood has been bleached honey gold and it's worn reminding Daniel of the wooden floors he's found in old digs scattered around the world. 

Sharp edges smoothed into graceful curves, eroded by the passage of thousands, or hundreds of thousands of feet, as generation after generation walked the same path. It's smooth under his shoulders, back and hips and he knows if he slides his foot down over the solid planking it won't splinter.

It's warm too, having soaked up the heat of the sun all day and it's radiating that warmth back into his skin which is already overheated. 

But it's deceptive this wooden dock and the cabin behind it. 

Both of them are carefully crafted to look old, settled, as if they've been here for decades but Daniel knows the true age of the place. Jack drew the plans up before the mission to Abydos, he oversaw the construction in the year that Daniel was away and put the finishing touches to the dock and the house after Daniel rejoined SG1.

Daniel knows about those finishing touches because Jack brought him here when the loss of Sha're was razor bright and the only thing getting him out of bed in the morning and keeping on his feet was the need to get out there and find her. Jack dug him out of his lab, prised him away from his books, only reluctantly allowing him to bring a laptop and flatly refusing him access to a phone.

It had taken Daniel four days to emerge from the cabin and the flickering screen into a wash of sunlight. 

One image is still burned into his brain, not dimming after all these years, of Jack stripped to the waist on his hands and knees, muscles shifting smoothly under tanned skin as he made long, slow strokes of the plane over the planks, stopping occasionally to sweep sawdust out of the way.

Daniel's breath had stuttered to a halt watching Jack and, more specifically, Jack's hands. 

Jack's clever, talented hands can shape wood to his will or drag a song from skin and muscle and bone.

There's the slide of skin on skin and heat beating into him from the wood below and the warmth of Jack's body above. 

"Where did you go?"

Daniel blinks up into clear blue eyes, flattens his feet against the dock, raises his hips and twists just to hear the way Jack's breath catches for a moment.

"Nowhere...just remembering the first time you brought me here."

Fifteen years ago and though the cabin and dock might've been built by Jack, this place is one they've both turned into a home.


End file.
